


The Dragoness

by blistry



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, DameRey, F/M, JediPilot, by cheating and grand theft boating, its the pirate code i didnt write it i just abide, this is how pirates flirt you see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blistry/pseuds/blistry
Summary: “The devil himself would have had the good sense to jump ship the moment he saw my flag on the horizon,” she said through grit teeth, squatting before him and proffering a dagger of Orient-make. Jewels sparkled in the handle. She spun the blade to point towards his bobbing Adam’s apple.“Good sense was never my strong suit,” he said, smiling."Neither good sense nor sailing, for that matter."--A nice prompt from my tumblr turned pirate au





	The Dragoness

**Author's Note:**

> this was posted in it's entirety on my tumblr but im putting it here :3

Captain Dameron, or rather, the _former_ Captain, Poe was brought roughly to his knees on the deck of his ship. His breeches would certainly fray. Poe was filthy, covered from head to toe in soot and ash. His mizzenmast burned to cinders before him and the lateen sails swung free in the dying wind.

“Ah, the Dragoness,” sang a voice which he knew in an instant. A voice which almost certainly might spell his death. Boots lightly thudded down the mahogany stairs behind him as someone descended from the quarter deck.

“Fastest frigate to sail the West Indies, or so they say.” Laughter rang out among the members of her boarding crew. Poe fastened his eyes to the wooden boards beneath his knees.

Those thudding boots came to a stop before him. They had been flawlessly polished before the fight, that much he could tell. As his eyes roamed up, he counted two very shapely legs squeezed into tight buckskins. Her jaunty blue coat was pressed, laundered, pleated. Gold trim sparkled around every buttonhole. It was as if she had plucked it off a freshly dead Spanish officer that very morning just to look nice for the occasion.

And then his eyes came to rest on her face. Her long hair billowed freely from beneath her extravagantly feathered hat. She towered above his kneeling form. A storm. A reckoning.

“What say you, Poe?” She asked, humor completely gone from her expression. The fearsome Pirate Rey had seen his face before. Poe wished he could free his arms, if only to tidy his hair and maybe wipe the blood off of his lip.

“Hell hath no fury?” He guessed. She smiled wickedly.

“The devil himself would have had the good sense to jump ship the moment he saw my flag on the horizon,” she said through grit teeth, squatting before him and proffering a dagger of Orient-make. Jewels sparkled in the handle. She spun the blade to point towards his bobbing adam’s apple.

“Good sense was never my strong suit,” he said, smiling. Something he was sure would irritate her to no end. She nodded for her boys to release his arms.

“Neither good sense nor sailing, for that matter.” He frowned and placed a hand over his heart. He could feel where his sweat had soaked through his linen shirt.

“You wound me, Captain.”

“I shall do much more than that,” she growled. Poe supposed it was time to start talking before she made good on that promise.

“Don’t be cross, Rey. A wager’s a wager,” he said, using that charming, assuaging tone he favored when he wanted to get his way with her. The same one he used when she used to freely welcome him into her Captain’s Quarters.

As he had hoped for, she was so immediately angry that she gasped and reddened. Rey roughly sheathed her dagger.

“Don’t be cross? Don’t be cr-” She started rifling through the pockets of her long jacket until she retrieved what she was after.

“The Dragoness was _mine_ ,” she hissed, showing her palm to him. A set of bone-carved dice rested in her clean hand. His dice. She twisted her features in anger again and threw them at his chest. They bounced off of him uselessly and clacked onto the deck.

“Look at that.” He looked up at her once more with half-lidded eyes and an uncaring smirk, “a natural eleven. Must be my lucky day.”

“Yes,” she agreed, now practically nose to nose with him. “I think you’ll find this particular set of dice rather predisposed to them.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” He whispered between just the two of them. Her eyes widened at his feigned ignorance, like she wanted to laugh.

“No, Poe, not mad,” she said, running a soft hand down his stubbly cheek, “just disappointed.”

Her blue coat billowed around her as she stood and turned to address her pirate brigade. They had apprehended every member of Poe’s hastily scraped together crew and stood around his deck, cheering and taunting.

“Now,” she cried, voice commanding respect, “what’ll it be, lads?”

A savage crowing and jeering for blood erupted from her crew.

“I shan’t just shoot him,” she said, running her fingers down the mother of pearl inlays on her flintlock. “That would be a far greater kindness than he deserves. What do you seadogs say is a fitting punishment for a traitorous first mate?”

A chorus of barbaric suggestions came from the pirates.

“Creative bunch,” Poe said, earning himself a cuff on the back of the head from one of the brutes holding him down.

“We could always hang him from the bowsprit. He would make a handsome ornament for my new ship, I think.”

Her pirate crew seemed to really like this idea but he knew Rey was not cruel, despite her anger. He was brought roughly to his feet. Rey stood tall before him, unconcerned by their close proximity.

“So you think I’m handsome?”

“You push your luck, foolish man. It’s a wonder that you needed those trick dice in the first place.”

“No ship, no crew, no captaincy,” he shrugged. “I reckon those dice spent the last of my good luck.”

“It’s not as bad as all that,” she replied, unsheathing her sabre and pointing it at his chest. “Shore’s about two leagues out. I know you to be a very talented swimmer. If you’re very _lucky_ the sharks won’t make a meal of you before you reach landfall. Virginia will be no better for having you wash up on their shores.”

“Virginia? Are we really that far north?”

“Indeed.”

“It means a lot, all the trouble you went to just to visit.”

“You have no idea.” She looked over at her ship, which sat parallel to his now. They were both tangled in misplaced rigging and boarding ropes.

Her Spanish galleon dwarfed his frigate. It was the sort of ship pirates could only dream of helming. Poe had counted twelve culverins on one side alone as they ripped his ship apart in the fight. It was a massive vessel, with three thick masts and a polished, oak beakhead.

He couldn’t imagine how she had possibly commandeered it, however, if there was a pirate who _could_ , it was his Captain Rey.

“Do you even have need of the Dragoness with a flagship like that?”

“Not at all,” she laughed, acting the showman for her crew, prodding him with her saber ever closer to a scupper, where a member of her crew was already laying down a gangplank, “but it’s really about the principle of the thing, you see.”

He was actually touched by that in a sordid way. Rey had defeated an entire crew of Spaniards and made off with their vessel just for him. She _did_ care.

Rey walked him all the way to the edge of the board and let him look down past his toes and into the churning blue sea. He felt the sabre in his back.

“Why?” She asked. It was too quiet for her crew to hear. When he turned he could see her eyes were shining with angered tears. He had betrayed her and put them there.

“Perhaps I only wanted to see how far you would have chased me.”

“To the ends of the earth,” she said, frowning. “Truly. If only to wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

Then she kissed him roughly, one hand grabbing a fistful of his shirt, unafraid of how they both teetered on the edge of the gangplank. He could feel her fingers digging into his scalp and he closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair before she sharply parted them.

“Now,” she said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and sounding as if she needed to catch her breath, “get off my ship.”

Her sabre raised once more to his throat. He gave her one last winsome smile, the one which she so desired to see gone, and shrugged. With that, he stepped backward off the plank, disappearing into the deep blue.

**Author's Note:**

> arr mateys! thanks for reading!


End file.
